


Things Left Behind

by Rii



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rii/pseuds/Rii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orochimaru had left behind many things when he departed from the Akatsuki.<br/>Sasori was one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Left Behind

Orochimaru's departure had been very sudden.

And, at least to Sasori, unanticipated.

If he had known what that fresh-faced newcomer would do to his partner, what that Itachi would do.

He would have at least had Orochimaru pack up his things in advance.

They had shared a base, you see.

Every partnership within the Akatsuki had their own personal base. It was where Sasori kept his workshop and, a floor below, Orochimaru had his labs.

Lovely how their interests seemed to intersect. 

Sasori had no shortage of fresh bodies when he and Orochimaru had time off between missions to experiment and craft.

Well, until his latest batch of experiments started working, but Sasori was not going to complain.

Preservatives, too, Orochimaru had in plentiful amounts. Among other things.

Formaldehyde, drying agents, freezers.

Well, at least Sasori had them all to himself now.

The labs were always quiet, even when Orochimaru was around. Even when the floor ran with blood from the test subjects, things were always kept orderly, easily-found. And cleaned up, afterward. Pristine.

But even at its most sterile it always seemed more... alive, somehow. Even when he was off somewhere else, the place felt so undeniably... _Orochimaru._  He could practically hear that laughter echoing off somewhere as Orochimaru went to retrieve a scalpel or a skin graft.

"Anything I can get for you, Sasori?"

No, not today.

"Well, that's just fine. I'm here if you need me."

There was something musical in Orochimaru's voice when he was working. Happy.

Sasori knew these labs as well as any of his puppets, where all the little hidden cubbyholes and cabinets were, all the little jars of preserved organs and medicines.

"What's mine is yours, my dear," Orochimaru had said, on move-in day. "Help yourself."

The lab felt dead, now. Hollow. Like a puppet without strings.

Sasori's wooden feet made a thick sound. Dust was already beginning to settle. Almost unthinkable, but, well.

Orochimaru wasn't here any more.

At least the chemicals wouldn't be wasted.

Orochimaru's bedroom was down another hallway, away from the smell of the lab, but close enough to hear if anyone tried to escape.

It looked like how it had always been left. Sheets neatly, neatly folded. Mirror, comb, jewelry box on the vanity. Even the clothes were still folded in their drawers, arranged by pants, shirts, robes, others.

Sasori had checked.

By all accounts, nothing had changed. Just like any other day.

The only thing missing was him.

And even though Sasori did not sleep any more, he found himself climbing onto Orochimaru's bed and laying there, staring at the ceiling.

"What's mine is yours."

Until someone else came along.

Until then, Sasori would have to settle for the things left behind.

Struggling not to include himself.

  



End file.
